


Medicine

by SilenceIsNotGolden



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hope's Peak Academy (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Delirium, F/M, Fever, Fluff, Kissing, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16271123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsNotGolden/pseuds/SilenceIsNotGolden
Summary: Kyoko abhors medicine so Makoto has to get creative.





	Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Italics: thoughts or hallucinations
> 
> Bolded Italics: phone convos/texts

Dazed lilac irises scan the empty hallways of their school’s dormitory. Her body is languid, heavy as if her feet were anchored into the ground itself. To top it off, her entire person felt like a furnace, as it radiates scalding heat that can warm even the coldest of storms. It’s uncomfortable for her liking but nothing she can’t overcome with a little sleep. However, if he found out she was strolling around in this condition; she’ll surely receive a lecture from him.

_“Kirigiri-san, you need more than sleep! You have a fever. Medicine will help!”_

“I don’t need it, Naegi-kun” Great, she’s even talking to herself in his voice.

Each agonizing step becomes strenuous as if she had been trudging uphill. Her world is spinning and it takes everything she has to remain upright.

_“Hey, Kirigiri-san! Get to bed, please! I’ll bring you some medicine.”_

“Stop it. I hate medicine…” Fortunately for her, the place was empty. To an onlooker, her bouts of self-conversation might give way to questioning her sanity. She reaches a lobby-like area, with lofty couches and tables, where students met up or “studied.” Should she sleep here? Even for just a little while.

_“No, Kirigiri-san! My room is nearby. Go there.”_

“Your room? Yes...it is.” Her dorm is in the other sector of the campus and yet her path automatically leads her here. No matter where the currents are, no matter where she is swept, her final trajectory would always be towards him. His orbit always pulls her in. His gravitational pull is inescapable.

She doesn’t mind. She has since given up trying to fight against these feelings. The sense of security she felt whenever she is in his company was...nourishing. She isn’t a sentimental creature. Not even an emotional one. If there’s a word or phrase to describe her, it would emotionally unavailable, cold, and distant. That was her upbringing. To be detached in order to serve the truth to the fullest but learning the avenues of the human facet through his optimistic and hopeful eyes was, for better words, an eye-opener. She has much to learn and she for one is glad that he is her teacher, even if he isn’t aware of it.

_“Maybe, you should let me know this, Kirigiri-san.”_

“Quiet.” Admitting it to herself is one thing but to him is another dilemma in itself.

Her body stills as she arrives at her destination. The quaint door of Naegi Makoto stands tall and while he is only a few knocks away, her arms felt shackled to her sides. Leaning her forehead on the ligneous surface of the cool mahogany door, she adjusts the collar of her blazer and whispered his name.

_“You’re here. Knock on the door, Kirigiri-san.”_  
  
Swerving about-face, she leans her back against his door and drops, bottom first, on the hard floor. With her head pounding against her skull as if a mallet is crushing her within, she can’t maintain any of her mental faculties anymore. Instinctively, she reaches for her phone and messages him a succinct text.  
  
Across the partition, Naegi Makoto stretched his arms. After an exhaustive marathon of studying for his math final, he can afford a small break now. His emerald eyes light up as soon as he notices a certain detective had messaged him.

**_Kirigiri Kyoko: Makoto_ **

“Huh..” The text only reads his name. She rarely, if ever, refers to him using his first name. Concern encompasses his boyish features and he quickly types a reply. _**“Are you okay, Kyoko?”**_ He thinks mirroring her would be the best course of action. While he waits for a response, he should brush his te-

A sound alert similar to Kyoko’s phone interrupts his thoughts. It is right outside his room. He texts her again and on cue, the sound rings. “Is she here?”

Slowly, Naegi twists the knob and a limp body collides against his leg as the door unlocks. “Kirigiri-san?” Her eyes are shut tight, expression riddled with discomfort. Ragged breathes penetrates his ears. He kneels down, gingerly cradling her in his arms to asses her condition. Without even touching her face, the redness melding with her pale complexion is already an indicator of a fever. He scoops her up in his arms effortlessly and lays her down on his bed. Naegi upturns his entire bedroom searching for a thermometer and other necessary items to deal with a fever.

He would get the nurse but it’s so late in the night. The goal is to reduce the fever. That’s it. Should be fine...he’s done this with his sister. Gently pushing the thermometer in her mouth, it rapidly records her temperature. His eyes widen at the revelation.

104 ° F blinks on the small screen. “Kirigiri-san, I asked you if you were feeling fine earlier in the day. I should’ve pushed further.” He mentally kicks himself but is fully aware she is the type to keep this to herself, believing she can deal with it on her own. He can’t blame himself for this even though a deep sickening strain in the pit of his stomach screams at him that this could’ve been prevented.

Placing a cold hand towel on her forehead, he brushes aside a few damp bangs sticking to her forehead. He has some fever-reducing pills but how to administer it and avoid a choking hazard situation? Staring at her parted lips, several scenarios crops materializes. “Nevermind.” It’s his turn to redden. “I’ll figure that out when you’re more comfortable.” Naegi cautiously unbuttons her dark blazer and hangs it behind the chair close by. Sweat coated her white uniform, morphing it to an almost transparent material. Hands freeze in place, despite the heat radiating from Kirigiri’s body. Throat bobs nervously. The attempt to remove any more articles of clothing suddenly turns into an arduous quest. This is for her; he berates himself, but a part of him...

“No! I need to recruit someone for this.” The only one he can absolutely reach in a moments notice is a mutual friend of theirs.

Swift and steady, he dials this friend’s number, and thankfully, it isn’t long until she answers.

“ _ **Yo, yo, Makoto! What’s up?”**_

“Hina! It’s an emergency!!” He summarizes the ordeal.

_**“Kay! Be there in two shakes!”**_ Asahina Aoi’s dorm is on the other side of the campus so no doubt she’ll take a short trek here. In the meantime, he will continue to alleviating the symptoms of fever.

A few minutes later, a thunderous crash, similar to an animal stampede occurs out the hallway.

“Makoto!!” It is the animated voice of his school’s star swimmer.

“That was quick!” Once he swings the door to let her in, she takes a minute to catch her breath.

“I ran here as fast…” She pants. “As fast as I can…” Donned in a plain short and a tank top, she exhales before worriedly staring at her classmate. With outstretched hands, she offers a bag of mini donuts, her panacea to life’s complex problems. “Donuts. I got them.”

“Sorry to break it to you, Hina, but donuts don’t have any medicinal properties to them.”

“Don’t sass me, boy!” Hina points an accusatory finger at him. “Now, where’s our patient?” Plopping down beside her sick friend, she clasps her hands on Kyoko’s gloved ones. “My poor girl. How long does she have?”

“She’s not dying.” She lightly giggled at Makoto’s monotonous tone.

“Okay? So what do you want me to do?”

“Just you know…” Hina watches as he displays an assortment of hand gestures and pointing but no matter how much he mimed out, she couldn’t comprehend what he is trying to convey. “Make her more relax.”

“Woah...what now?”

“Not like whatever you’re thinking about, Hina. Just take off...you know.”

“Take what?”

“Her shirt…” He mumbled.

“What about her shirt?”

Another series of charade is played out and Hina taps her foot impatiently. She got the gist of what her task should be but she wants to hear it from the horse’s mouth. Watching these two dancing around each for the past two years is fun and all but she wants results. Little by little, she’ll push them to the brink.

“C’mon, Makoto! Spit it out!”

His fists balled up as he shouts, “Her clothes! Take her clothes off!”

Her cheeks ballooned as she stifles her laughter. “Woah. I’m telling on you.”

“Hina! She’s sweating all over so please change her.” Desperation raked his voice.

“Okay, okay.” Defeated, she shrugs and pops a button on Kyoko’s shirt but then notices he is still facing forward. “Makoto, if you’re gonna stare, why bother with the pretense of calling me.” Naegi forcibly spins around, yelling out an apology. To keep himself occupied, he rummages in his closet, scrounging for tops that can possibly fit such a petite young woman.

“Makoto!” Hina suddenly calls out.

“What is it?”

“Should I take off her bra?” Her voice is bathed in mischief.

Not falling for the obvious provocation, he merely responds with an “if you deem it necessary!” The redness culminating on his face heightened and try as he might, it just kept pestering him. Stalling for time, he finally decided on any old T-shirt in his drawer. Just the mere fact that she’ll be in his clothes is making him flustered. Naegi exits the closet and walks backward with eyes closed to ensure no peeking ensues. He waves the shirt like a flag and waits for Hina. “Hina, here,” whispered the only male in the room.

“Huh, yeah. Thanks...hey what else should I remove?”

“Maybe stop removing things?” That earns him a chuckle.

“Alrighty. Well, that should do it.” Dusting off her hands, she jumps off the bed and rests her hands on her hips. “Should be good now, Makoto. You’re welcome, Kyoko-chan.”

“I can turn around?”

A glint of amusement sparked in Hina’s gaze. “If you dare...” Her voice cascades down to an ominous whisper.

“Hina!”

“Yeah! She’s all dressed and I didn’t take off her bra.”

Perspiration trickles down his forehead. “That’s good to know!” He states rather vehemently.

Makoto pulls up a chair right beside his bed while Hina perches on the edge. He does appreciate her coming to the rescue like this. Glancing at the small bowl on the desk, he notes that the water level has been reduced. Hina must have wiped off any excess sweat off of her...He slapped away the mental image. Envisioning titillating imagery about Kirigiri-san at a time like this is rather disrespectful so why does it invade his thoughts. He won’t deny his attraction to her. Heck, he is 100% sure it is more than pure desire. Fondness? No. It’s something else. His pulse quickens. Ruminating about his feelings for her is terrible for his blood pressure.

“Makoto, you picturing pervy things? You’ve been hanging out way too much with Leon.” She laughed when she is gifted with the desired reaction. “Well, at any rate.” A yawn escapes out of her. “It’s late. I should get back.”

“I can walk you.”

Opening the door for her, Hina only gives him a wink. “Don’t worry about me, Mako. Just take care of your girl. Don’t do anything I would.” And just like that, she bolts away from the scene. There she goes, like a whirlwind.

“She’s not my girl.” Makoto broods over the line. If only. “Don’t do anything I would…” He mimics his friend. “What does that even mean?” Callously slamming the door, he flinches when the current occupant on his bed moans. Right, Kyoko is here and he’s alone with her. He's amazed she stayed asleep with the commotion Hina and he brewed up. He pulls up the duvet to her chin and smiles. She seems calmer than before. “Rest well, Kyoko.”

* * *

She cracks an eye open, surveying her immediate vicinity. It’s dark and sweltering. Yet, she cannot cease the shivers that wrack her frame. Why is it like Hell in here. A snarl breaks out as she shoves the incessant layer off of her already steaming body. She blinks when a familiar scent envelops her.

Makoto…

Extending her reach, her gloved hand discovers an attainable figure. It’s a full head of hair. She ruffles it, knowing full well who it belongs to.

“Makoto…”

The head shifts under her palm. “Kirigiri-san? Are you awake?” She winces when a light source nearby springs to life. Panicked queries head her way but she hears them as faint mumbles. When the sheets attempt to coil its dastardly self around her form again, she struggles and catapults it somewhere else.

“Hey! Don’t do that, Kirigiri-san.” Unfortunately for him, that same blanket catches him like a net.

“It’s hot. So damn hot.” Frustration seeps out.

“You have a fever...” She is aware of that. “Do you want some water?”

Silently, she agrees and greedily quaffs the refreshing drink he offered. “Hey, slow down!” She coughs harshly when the water seemingly went down the wrong tube. “Here, these pills. It should help reduce the fe-”

“No.” Just like that, she shuts down. Like a petulant child, she hides her face and curls into a ball, unwilling to participate in what he wants her to do. This is a true test of will as he fights the urge to roam his eyes on her nicely shaped— He attempts to blanket her again but she kicks them away.

“What do you mean no? Kirigiri-san, don’t be stubborn!” He settles down on the bed and tilts himself for a better angle of her face. She is...pouting? He bites his inner cheek.

“Tch...” She jolts back to her original position, now sprawled face up on his bed. Makoto watches as she reaches inside her shirt and unclasps something. He should probably divert his gaping elsewhere but he is transfixed by her next course of action. “Here...” Brandishing out her undergarment, she presents it to him proudly. “It’s hot but freezing…” It plops down on his hands; its gossamer texture grazes his skin. The cup perfectly fits in the palms of his hand. Woodenly eyeing the garment, he quietly chucks it on his chair while his mind empties out everything.

It’s unclear as to why he accepted it in the first place...

“I can’t take it.” Disheveled and heedless of his presence, she begins to unbuckle her skirt but he finally gathers the remainder of his sanity and halts any further disrobing.

“Please, Kirigiri-san. Don’t do it. If you take your medicine, you’ll stop feeling this way soon.” He chimes in a sing-along-fashion, like you would when talking to a child.

As expected, a firm, “no” is blurted out.

“Makoto…”

“Yes?” The labyrinth of Kirigiri Kyoko just expanded. Currently, the level of unpredictability during this feverish episode leaves him unguarded but at the same time, excited. He is observing a new side of her after all.

“Is your hair soft?” Kyoko slurred her words, delirium in full effect.

Naegi releases a small sigh and humors her. “I’m not sure.” Bowing down to her, he pauses and leans on his elbow so she can satiate her curiosity. Kyoko brings a digit to her mouth and discards her gloves. This is the second time she has shown him her disfigured hands. The severe, burn scarring buried her usual pallor and he can’t conceive the pain she must’ve gone through. Traumatic experiences like that stick around and shielding her scars away from scrutinizing eyes is one of her responses to it. In a way, he’s honored that she’s lifting some of her barriers for him.

“Oh, soft. It’s nice, Makoto. What shampoo you use?” Genuine amazement mixed in with her normally flat intonation. Combing her hands through his velvety locks is therapeutic. The sensation of touch is mostly absent in her daily routine so it doesn’t come as a surprise that the innocent raking of his chestnut mane transforms into a sensory overload. Her bare hands trail down to his face. Unexpectedly, she pinches his nose next.

“Kirigiri-san!” He breathes in through his mouth. “Please, let go.”

“My father did this once.” Makoto gawks at her. Her voice is sluggish but held no resentment in them. It’s almost reminiscing. A huge contrast to the few occasions the topic of her father was brought up. “I hate him.”

Interested in her reply, he wants to follow her line of thinking. It’s not often she behaves so freely with him. “Oh? For what?”

“For stealing my nose. I want it back.” Through half-opened eyelids, she pokes his face but a disconnect in her hand-eye coordination takes place and as a result, she almost stabs his eye. “I won’t steal yours.”

Makoto withdraws her hand away to avert anymore poking hazards. “Thanks. I think.” Nestling in his hands now is her smaller ones. Not resisting him, she squeezes and gradually increases the pressure of her grip.

“Your hands are large, Makoto.”

“Yours might be abnormally small then!” He teases.

“But you’re such a pipsqueak.”

“No, I’m no-” Graced upon her lips is the most heartfelt, tender smile he has ever witness her muster. It stops him dead in his tracks.

“I don’t mind if it’s you.” She suddenly pulls him closer and like a fish caught in a fishing rod, he flounders. Her back is to him while his arm circles around her waist.

“I want a hug…”

“Okay? You can have one.” An affectionate Kirigiri-san is more than he can handle. Unprepared for the turn of events, he shifts in her clutches. Not that he hated this but he wished he had a better way of processing these acts of endearments she has been showering him. With his face practically sinking into the nape of her neck, the amount of contact they’re having is causing some distractions. Despite that, it’s pleasant. It’s almost as if she has regressed to a childlike state and he considers if there’s just a tiny part of her that yearns to fracture the restraints she has established on herself. Once she has reverted to her old, serious self, he wonders if she’ll believe his recount of what had happened on this day.

“Say, Kyoko.” Tentatively, he approaches her forehead with his available hand. Judging by the considerable heat still emanating from every part of her body, her temperature hasn’t improved at all. “I’ve done everything you asked for. Can you please take these pills for me? It’ll really help with your fever.” He bargains to the best of his ability. Considering her back is to him, it leaves him unable to anticipate her incoming maneuvers so he braces for the unknown.

Kyoko groans. He is like a broken record but if it’ll allay his badgering...

A sly smirk resurfaces. “Okay, I’ll drink your stupid medicine on one condition…”

“What’s that?”

Switching her position until they are face to face, she inches closer and breathes out, “Use your mouth.” The huskiness of her voice and the implication of those three words is enough to send his brain on overdrive. It takes a moment for it to register but as soon as it did, those three words hurtle down at him like a hailstorm.

“Use my mouth?” Makoto drawls out. Was she asking him to kiss her? He knows she delivered that with the intention of disarming him. Based on his typical easy going temperament, he wouldn’t comply and she is aware of this. He locked on her gaze with an unbending will. Determination brims in his emerald pearls. Her fever has to be controlled and if this is the way…

Before his nerves abscond, he drops the pill on his tongue and dives right in. Supporting her head, he cups the edge of her jawline and bridged the gap between them. He coaxes her mouth to part ever so slightly and pushes through the paltry resistance. Amidst all this, her arms find themselves looping around his neck, deepening the osculating. Smoothly, he utilizes the most nimble muscle of the mouth to dispense the tablet where it needs to be. Her own playfully wrestles with him but his resolve remains strong as the capsule slides in, spurring her swallowing reflex. When he is absolutely sure she has swilled it down successfully, he breaks away. “Kyoko…”

“I want more medicine.”

“Now, you want more?” Naegi grins, pupils dilated, hunger teeming in them. He recognizes that they can’t take things too far. Not in her delirious state. Lifting his hand, he covers her eyes with one swift motion. “Go to sleep, Kyoko.”

“No.” She grumbles. “Hey! Who turned off the lights?”

“I did because you need a break.” And to be honest, he can use some too.

“No…” is her last murmur before dozing off. For the umpteenth time tonight, he throws the coverlet over her. With fatigue evident in his expression, he collapses beside the dreaming girl.

* * *

Morning soon appears. Kyoko gathers her strength and hauls herself upright. Rubbing the drowsiness away, her vision begins clearing up and it hits her that she isn’t in her chambers. Wearing a shirt she isn’t familiar with, she inspects the rest of her attire under the bedspread. Someone changed her.

“Hey, you’re awake! Good morning!” Lucid but puzzled lilac spheres greet him. “Hina swapped out your clothes since you were drenched with sweat last night. That’s my shirt.”

“That solves it. Thank you, Naegi-kun. I’ll have to relay a thanks to Hina later.” Wafted from the adjacent desk was the aroma of delicious coffee and eggs. Her stomach subconsciously grumbles, yelling at its human for sustenance.

“Let me check your temperature before you eat.” The instrument reads 99° F. “You still have a bit more to go, Kirigiri-san.” He frees an enormous yawn. Studying his tired eyes and slumped shoulders, he didn't have much sleep. Was he taking care of her? Canvassing the area, her jacket is on the chair and is that her...bra on top? A container of fever reducer is to the right of an empty glass and there’s bowl with a small, sodden towel hanging on the rim. Busy night, then...

“Naegi-kun, if you may, explain why I’m in your quarters. My recollection of how I came to be here is murky.” His ogling is perplexing, signifying that whatever transpired between them is disparate than their customary interaction. Subconsciously, she taps her nose. Brief flashes of the events last night flood her memories. They are hazy at best. She’ll require him to fill in the blanks.

“You were outside my door and…” Supplying a recap, he only omits a few details, to save them the embarrassment and awkwardness that might result in its announcement.

“Delirious was I? I wanted a hug, I played with your hair and I was convinced my nose had been stolen by my father? You also had to confront me several times since I didn’t want to ingest any medications? I find your recount implausible and yet I know for a fact you have no reason to lie.” She raised her thumb and pointer to her chin. “Then, I must exercise more care in the future. I finally succumbed to my deleterious habits. I’m indebted to you, Naegi-kun.”

He rubs the back of his head. “Nah, it’s not a problem! Just focus on your recovery.”

His posture is still taut and she muses upon it. She slides to the edge of the mattress and crosses her legs. The sign his body and eyes reveal more than his words. There’s a rather large space between them and the avoidance of eye contact is suspicious but the notion of distrusting his report doesn’t sit well for her. Instead of speculating, she would rather hear it from him. “Naegi-kun, is there anything else?”

“Nope.” Naegi answers too fast. “Eat up.” His Adam’s apple bounces up as the course of his gaze flip-flops to herself and at something to her right. A particular interference is causing his trepidation. The only objects nearby are the items on his desk, which by happenstance contains a bottle of medicine. She disliked every form of pharmaceutical but his narration admits that she drank the very thing she despises. It does strike her odd that she was somehow persuaded. It’s a leap but it won’t hurt to question about it.

“Naegi-kun, indulge me for a moment.”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’m rather impressed that you managed to convince me to imbibe the fever reducer. My unusual recalcitrant attitude last night must have been quite troublesome. I do apologize for imposing such a task on you.” Right on cue, he becomes rigid, but she purposely ignores it and resumes her story.“If only my grandfather didn’t feed me spoonfuls of the bitterest concoction on his shelf, I wouldn’t have such an aversive reaction to medicine. Pray, I must learn your technique. Perhaps, you can repeat it when illness seizes me in the future.”

Instantly bolting from the bed and she accosts him for specifics. Naturally, he performs accordingly and retreats. Before long, he’s backed into a corner, with the door obstructing his way.“Why are you stuck on that, Kirigiri-san? You drank it. End of story!” Anxiety permeates from every pore of his being and she can sense it.

_“Use your mouth…”_ Dim illustrations of the occurrence continue to pour out.

_“I want more….”_ The detective’s furrowed brow softens. Is that so?

“Makoto…”

Naegi yelps as her tone reduce into an admonitory growl.

“What did you use to sway me?”

Don’t tell her. Don’t tell her. Don’t tell her. Don’t tell her. Whimpering, he chews on his lips, debating with himself. In muted silence, they face one another. “I find it unfair that only you can recollect what came to pass. It involves me too, does it not?” Seeing her downcast countenance breaches his heart.

He can’t take it any longer.

“I used my mouth, okay! Tongue! There was tongue. You were tenacious and it was nice. Really nice...like amazing.” He pauses. “You didn’t want to take the medicine and I just wanted you to take it!” Unable to contain it any longer, he kneels down by her feet and expresses his remorse. “I was trying to evade any awkwardness between us because I really like you, Kirigiri-san. I don’t want you to think I was trying to take advantage of you and…” Amidst the head slamming and conciliatory shouting, Kyoko isolates the “I really like you,” bit from the rapid-fire rant.

Copying him, she squats down and pats his hair. “I’m not upset. To be candid, I demand an encore now that I’m in my right mind.”

“Encore?”

“Yes. I want more medicine.”

* * *

 

Asahina Aoi happily struts along the pathway to her friend’s room with a brown bag of donuts. Old fashioned for Kyoko and Chocolate creamy filling for Makoto. Last night was quite the scare so she’s hoping Kyoko-chan is feeling better. She knocks on the door. “Kyoko-chan! Makoto! You two awake?” Pressing her ears against the wooden frame resulted in nothing but the void. Could they still be dreamland? “You two better be macking in there!” No reply. “Well, there’s study hall in the afternoon. See you then.”

Afraid of wasting the delectable round treat, she chomps on one. “I wonder if I’ll see them in study hall.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I swear this started with Kyoko drunk but I scaled that back and made her delirious with fever. I don't know which is better really. Hope you enjoyed your stay!


End file.
